,Mary's Other Month By Gigi Zapiain
OK I’m biased, but I think my Mom is the cutest senior citizen around. She loves a good romantic comedy at the movies, is a great traveler that enjoys exploring new places, never misses her aerobics class with women 40+ years younger than herself, could plant a dry stick in the ground and nurture it into a blooming plant, and revels in an end-of-season shoe sale as much as I do.
She and my Dad were married for 51 years before he returned to the Lord in 2005. After the funeral, I realized that as long as she had been alive, Mom had never been alone. She grew up in her boisterous family, went to college with her sisters, worked for an airline while living at home when she met the handsome grad student finishing up at Fordham University and tied the knot. With me and my brothers long since grown and out of the house – I realized she no longer had anyone to come home to with Dad gone.
Mom was and still is in good health, but there was no way I was going to leave her – alone. I won’t bore you with the details, but I decided to leave New England and head to Texas to where Mom had lived much of her life to seek my fortune there.
It was in October that I headed south that year – this gorgeous month when the weather is bracing and the trees wear their blazing finery – and remembered that it is that “other” month that is dedicated to Mary, Mother of God. It’s not often that I can claim to know what Jesus was thinking – but I have to say I know exactly how he felt when he did not want His Mother to be alone. I don’t believe for a minute that Jesus thought that Mary couldn’t look after herself – rather the Lord entrusted her to the Beloved Disciple because a Mom is always a Mom – and in her human nature, Mary would do best in an environment where she could continue her loving, nurturing ways; now in a special way with the Apostles, especially the one that Jesus loved.
After getting over a bit of southwest culture shock, the Lord was merciful and I was able to land a good job, and brought Mom to live with me. It would not be true if I told you things are perfect having Mom for a house-mate. If she had her way I would wear sailor-collared dresses to work every day – but it would also be untrue to say it is not good. It is very good, and I believe the Lord has blessed our decision to be together. I know Dad would have approved – and I know that Jesus does.
Showing posts with label Gigi Zapiain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gigi Zapiain. Show all posts
Friday, October 2, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The Lives of the Saints
POSTED BY GIGI ZAPIAIN--
Just a couple of weeks ago, our group finished the ENDOW course, Edith Stein: Seeker of Truth. We always take more time to complete any of the studies than what is usually expected, but nobody minds. Our bunch likes to do a lot of processing.
Lives of the saints are something I’ve read and enjoyed since childhood (remember The Picture Book of Saints by Fr. Lawrence Lovasik?) and in college my then-boyfriend introduced me to author Louis de Wohl, who wrote, among other things, a series of historical novels in the 1940’s and 50’s on saints and various figures pivotal in the history of the Church. One of my favorites was The Quiet Light, about the life of St. Thomas Aquinas, who disappointed and defied his illustrious and prosperous family of noble title. Their ambition was for young Thomas to be appointed a cardinal or at least a bishop – and were horrified by his taking a vow of poverty and joining a rag-tag mendicant order, the Dominicans. The plot hatched to tempt the young monk and shame him into leaving is as timeless as Thomas’ response is unique. His simplicity left his confessors in tears; while his writings, the fruit of his intense life of study, prayer, and contemplation, stunned the known world. After that novel, I had a new appreciation for my medieval philosophy class.
I really hadn’t connected saints with philosophy much since then until delving into the Edith Stein study. I found myself thinking about some of the things I had learned and remembered that it was Aquinas who said that “philosophy is the handmaiden of theology.” This was certainly true for Edith, whose earnest and scholarly study of philosophy could never quite answer her questions about reality, the nature of existence, and the ultimate meaning of life. It was only sometime later, through the example of Christian friends and colleagues, that Edith was able to drop what she called “the barriers of rationalistic prejudice” and became open to observing and experiencing without preconceived notions. Later, reading the autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila, Edith became convinced of the truth of Christianity.
Philosophy deals with what can be known by human reason and can take us only so far, but if it is grounded in integrity and reality it can prepare the mind for the leap between empirical or natural truth (always with the help of grace) – to revealed or supernatural truth – that which we could only know through God’s Revelation. And because both natural and revealed truth come from the same Source, they can never be in opposition to one another.
In our own day, Pope John Paul II observed that that too often, modern thought claims that human reason and supernatural faith are at odds. In his encyclical Fides et Ratio (Faith and Reason), the pope writes that faith and reason are not only compatible, but essential together. Faith without reason, he argues, leads to superstition. Reason without faith leads to relativism.
Hmm. Maybe that encyclical could be the topic of a future ENDOW study. In the meantime, I think I need to reread St. Teresa’s autobiography. I’m no philosopher, but given what it did for Edith Stein, I might have missed something the first time around.
Just a couple of weeks ago, our group finished the ENDOW course, Edith Stein: Seeker of Truth. We always take more time to complete any of the studies than what is usually expected, but nobody minds. Our bunch likes to do a lot of processing.
Lives of the saints are something I’ve read and enjoyed since childhood (remember The Picture Book of Saints by Fr. Lawrence Lovasik?) and in college my then-boyfriend introduced me to author Louis de Wohl, who wrote, among other things, a series of historical novels in the 1940’s and 50’s on saints and various figures pivotal in the history of the Church. One of my favorites was The Quiet Light, about the life of St. Thomas Aquinas, who disappointed and defied his illustrious and prosperous family of noble title. Their ambition was for young Thomas to be appointed a cardinal or at least a bishop – and were horrified by his taking a vow of poverty and joining a rag-tag mendicant order, the Dominicans. The plot hatched to tempt the young monk and shame him into leaving is as timeless as Thomas’ response is unique. His simplicity left his confessors in tears; while his writings, the fruit of his intense life of study, prayer, and contemplation, stunned the known world. After that novel, I had a new appreciation for my medieval philosophy class.
I really hadn’t connected saints with philosophy much since then until delving into the Edith Stein study. I found myself thinking about some of the things I had learned and remembered that it was Aquinas who said that “philosophy is the handmaiden of theology.” This was certainly true for Edith, whose earnest and scholarly study of philosophy could never quite answer her questions about reality, the nature of existence, and the ultimate meaning of life. It was only sometime later, through the example of Christian friends and colleagues, that Edith was able to drop what she called “the barriers of rationalistic prejudice” and became open to observing and experiencing without preconceived notions. Later, reading the autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila, Edith became convinced of the truth of Christianity.
Philosophy deals with what can be known by human reason and can take us only so far, but if it is grounded in integrity and reality it can prepare the mind for the leap between empirical or natural truth (always with the help of grace) – to revealed or supernatural truth – that which we could only know through God’s Revelation. And because both natural and revealed truth come from the same Source, they can never be in opposition to one another.
In our own day, Pope John Paul II observed that that too often, modern thought claims that human reason and supernatural faith are at odds. In his encyclical Fides et Ratio (Faith and Reason), the pope writes that faith and reason are not only compatible, but essential together. Faith without reason, he argues, leads to superstition. Reason without faith leads to relativism.
Hmm. Maybe that encyclical could be the topic of a future ENDOW study. In the meantime, I think I need to reread St. Teresa’s autobiography. I’m no philosopher, but given what it did for Edith Stein, I might have missed something the first time around.
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